She then hands the card to me, knowing I’ll want a closer look, too. From what I can see in the flickering lighter light, the Prince is painted in the same style as our deck. It depicts a young man dressed in red and holding an elaborate golden wand. He is led by a large black bird, its wingspan spread fully over a fiery desert.

Holding the card, it does really feel like we’ve found a piece we’ve been missing our entire lives. The sensation of discovering something so coveted, so special—it’s intoxicating.

Suddenly I begin to understand these Perillians a bit better.

We all then freeze as we hear a muffled voice through the hidden door we came through. The Wanderers obviously found a way into room eight…

But after several seconds of holding our breath, the indistinct voices dissipate. Whoever is searching the room, they don’t know how to access this secret room—and it turns out neither side can really hear much through the wall, mercifully. Still, that doesn’t mean we should linger much longer.

Though I’m distracted once again as Cain bursts into quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, trying to compose himself. “I just can’t believe my dad isn’t here to see this.”

“I understand,” Amelia whispers back, patting his shoulder. “These cards mean a lot to us, too. But we should really get going before—”

“I can stay behind and cover long enough for you to drive away,” Cain says, tear stains now creasing his cheeks. “But I need to ask something of you, first.”

Amelia and I both tense. Cain has helped us, but the idea he was doing it for nothing never quite sat right with me. I brace myself to finally hear his price.

“My dad always said he’d never rest until he found a card like this,” Cain begins. “I can still feel him all around, like he really is restless. There’s this Perillian belief, that only a reading with cards of your Corner can grant completion. I tried with a replica deck, but it didn’t…”

Cain pauses, sniffling and taking a breath. He then focuses his full gaze on Amelia.

“I don’t want your deck, that belongs with you. But is there any way you’d let me bring the Prince of Wands to my dad’s grave? That way I can do the reading and close his chapter.”

My brain spins. I can only imagine how Amelia must be feeling, hearing this request. It’s all too much, so fast. And we still don’t have any idea how much time we have before we are potentially discovered. The sentimental side of me wants to believe Cain—after all, every religion is made of rituals like the one he describes. Then again, my skeptical side thinks Cain could just be lying to get the card.